Bothersome

One of the unfortunate facts about the hospital I work at is that it abuts a very old cemetery.  Through very careful forethought and planning there are no patient rooms that have a view of gravestones.  It is visible, through the trees, from the library.  The PICU family grief room originally had a clear view of marble mausoleums until they installed some stained glass to blur the harsh reality.  Otherwise, it is the physician offices and work-rooms that have the gorgeous views of ancient trees marching through the seasons. 

I don't mean to imply that we should hide the concept or possibility of death.  Our bodies all die eventually.  I just think that there is something unsettling about struggling with the illness or injury of a loved one and, needing a glimpse of the outside world, looking out a window to see a funeral procession.

In the oncology world we wrestle every day with life and death discussions, how to talk to children and their parents.  Some people want cold hard facts with no sugar coating.  Some want vague generalizations.  We're honest with all of them though the language changes.  We work hard to make our clinic a space of hope and to give all the happiness we can to families who spend many of their days worrying about what the last day will be like.  Kids run around the halls chasing a favorite doctor or nurse.  They do crafts while they wait.  The teens hang out playing pool or Guitar Hero.  Santa always comes.  Hope, as it has been said, springs eternal.

We do what we do for the kids.  That includes decorating for every holiday including Halloween.

But we also do it for the parents, and I wonder if any of them find this bothersome as they check in for a blood count and chemotherapy.